Indemnity
by SempiternallySirius
Summary: I could only imagine how horrified Sirius must be by me. I attacked him. Sexually. I nearly choked on a ball of saliva. I was a sexual predator. I couldn't be trusted around anyone who could be found remotely attractive. A high priority male I would need to ensure I avoid was Sirius Black. Maybe then I could survive the next eight months at Hogwarts.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

What a bloody sore excuse for a party.

The only bloke who had ever given me a second glance had flicked me aside for whom I interpreted as the most unappealing girl in my grade. She chewed on her wand and had a twitchy left eye, but somehow stupid Aubrey found her to be a better option than little 'ol me. I knew I wasn't the prettiest lass at Hogwarts, nor the most endearing - but my pride was definitely in shambles after being shot down by Bertram Aubrey, of all blokes. He had always coasted down the middle - being such a crass arsehole that he never gained a number of friends.

From the beginning I knew it was really a way to avoid my impending doom as an unappealing, unlovable woman. I settled on him to revive my self-confidence, and he settled on me because no one else wanted to really stick around him for long. I knew he was an arsehole. I knew his arseholeness only made me miserable. But I figured it was the only opportunity of a relationship I would ever get. Who else has ever looked at me and sent me one of those childish and flirtatious winks? No one.

But, to my utter confusion, Bertram had found another option - and chose _her_. That twitchy, chompy little rat. My eyes were so closely pinched together I could barely see the two of them throwing their stupid arms in the air and laughing stupidly at each other. Stupid toerags.

I tore my eyes from the burning display and blew out my flushed cheeks. Scanning the dusty room, I could see everyone shuffled into their pairs, inevitably falling into the arms of temporarily lovers to finish off the night with some cheap quality lust. And here I was. Sitting on the edge of a squeak three-legged chair to ensure I didn't fall off and make an even bigger fool of myself. I glared, for no conceivable reason, as two Ravenclaws twisted their limbs together, both equally paralytic. The tall lass slid her three-quarter full firewhisky on a desk and giggled loudly, flicking her tangled hair as she stumbled out of the room with her one-night stand. I crinkled my nose, scooting my chair to the left and reaching for the abandoned drink.

"I know how you feel," I mumbled, "I too was tossed aside today." I heaved a dramatic sigh and threw the drink back. Uncontrollably, my face screwed up as I swallowed the strong beverage. "Where's some more of you..?" I murmured.

My gaze shifted around the room and my eyes widened in delight as I spotted an impressively full bottle of firewhiskey by the window sill. I grinned lazily and scampered across the room, squeezing between odorous bodies until I reached the gift that was alcohol.

I glanced around the room quickly before unscrewing the cap. I wasted no time in tipping back the whole bottle, gulping several times before removing it from my lips. I made a face as the taste burnt my throat.

It was beautiful.

I had never actually drank alcohol. I mean, I took sneaky sips at parties to fit in with everyone else, but I hadn't ever gotten tipsy, let alone drunk. I smiled to myself distantly - tonight was the perfect night to accomplish a drunken state. No one would really care. The room was nearly cleared, I didn't really have any friends, or much of a family. I always thought of myself on a canvas as a ridiculous blob in the background of a picture. I filled up negative empty space, but there was no real purpose of my existence. On most days, I was perfectly at peace with my fate as a blob, but tonight, everything was bothering me.

I hummed to myself as I took another large swig from the bottle, gripping it tightly in my hands as if my life depended on it.

I sat perched upon the window ledge for at least an hour, watching with fascination as I swirled the bottle around. The substance formed a whirlpool, swimming in an eternal circle. I hiccupped suddenly, and looked up, startled. Everyone had left, the music had stopped at some point within the last hour, and the charmed lights had dimmed to nothing. It was dark and lonely, and I sighed lightly. Without another self-pitying thought, I jumped off my ledge, nearly falling on my face as I slipped on a sticky puddle of an unknown beverage. Another hiccup slipped from my lips as I made my way to the door.

Lazily, I peeked out the doorway and slowly pushed it open. I was in the Astronomy Tower, I could recall from my arrival at the party. It was a good thing I hadn't followed several partgoers to the top of the tower, or I might have thrown someone over the rails in my sour mood - probably Aubrey. I did my best to sneak down the steps of the tower, but I had a feeling I was in no way stealth. A loud hiccup fell out my mouth suddenly, making my jump wildly. One step at a time, I continued my way down the tower.

I stopped abruptly and tilted my head to the side, lost. I wasn't very confidence I could remember which way my common room was. Left, right, straight ahead or down the stairs? I shrugged to myself as I decided to go left. I began whistling - or at least attempting to - between sips of the firewhisky.

"Padfoot, _someone_ is down there - hold _on_ , mate-" A voice travelled to me ears, "Oi, _Black_ , I think-"

"I _doubt_ it's a snake," Another voice scoffed loudly. Someone else quickly shushed the other two.

"Shh."

" _What?_ "

"What?"

I covered my mouth, my eyes drawing together in utter bemusement. What in Merlin's name was I doing? I was like a trainwreck - I could only watch myself as I poked my head out from the corner of the corridor with a sloppy grin.

"Good morning," I whispered cheerfully.

"What the _fuck_ is going on?" One of the strangers whispered to his friends.

I popped my head back out of sight and tipped the bottle back, nearly choking in my eagerness. It was very late - the moon had disappeared high into the black sky, sending the slightest glow through the open windows of the gloomy corridor. I hiccuped loudly, and clamped my hand over my mouth as I began tiptoeing out from the corridor, and continuing along the straight hall, hoping the unknown blokes at the end of the other corridor wouldn't notice me.

"What is she _doing_? Moony, go help her."

Another boy snorted, "Why is it always _me_? Why don't _you_ do it, Black?"

Holy balls. My eyes widened in dread. Black? As in _Sirius_ Black? No, no, no. No way. This was not happening. Nope.

Sirius Black grimaced, as if I was an ant in his knickers. He cautiously moved towards me, his face becoming somewhat clear under the horrid lighting.

I eyed him, my eyesight fading as my eyes squinted so much I could no longer see the gorgeous Gryffindor.

I hiccupped suddenly, squeezing my eyes shut in surprise. When I looked up, a pair of dark eyes were staring at me uneasily.

My gut swelled in horror before I even did it. I knew it was a very bad idea. But I did it anyway. I reached up and planted my lips on his. My clammy fingers curled around fistfuls of his jacket with determination. My feet climbed onto their tip toes, and rotated ever so slightly.

As our mouths continued to remain attach, I felt my toes slip on the stones. Instead of sensibly letting go of Sirius Black's clothing, I fastened my grip, crying out with terror as we both descended towards the staircase that loomed behind us.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The humiliation came first. It was closely followed by shame, and then pain.

"Ow," I squealed alarmingly, my eyes flying open, only to find Poppy Pomfrey looking down at me with disappointment. Her greyed hair had been thrown into a bun, and purple bags had developed under her piercing eyes. "Wow, you look awful," I commented, causing her to immediately scowl. My eyes widened - how did I always manage to put my foot in my mouth?

"You don't look too photogenic either, Selwyn," Poppy snapped impishly. I blushed vibrantly, ducking my head. She huffed, tucking her wand into her blankets of robes. "First of all, young lady, I am very disappointed in you. I know all too well about your being dumped by Bertram Aubrey," My face twisted involuntary, "But that is absolutely no excuse for drinking yourself into a stupour and falling down two flights of stairs. If those young lads had not been breaking the rules and wandering the corridors at an ungodly hour, you would have most definitely _fallen_ from the stairs and _into the pits of hell_!"

My bottom lip hung slightly, as I stared with wide eyes at the clucking and huffing woman. She had intervened in my life four years ago, when I was a totting second year. My mother died just after Christmas break, and I had excused myself from nearly every class for over a month, mumbling that I didn't feel well. Madam Pomfrey checked me over every single visit, gave a smile and told me to rest - although we both knew I was completely healthy. She never questioned me, or scowled at me and insisted I go back to class, and _stay_ in class. It was my aching for a maternal figure and willingness to confide that allowed me to tell Poppy Pomfrey my problems. She was the reason I didn't mentally explode – and I don't think I could every properly thank her for everything she did for me.

"… I'm sorry?" I suggested awkwardly, after silence hung over us for several moments.

She smacked my arm.

Bewildered, I cried out. I frowned childishly at the older woman as I inspected my upper arm for blossoming bruises.

"That is for getting _paralytic_ over a pathetic _boy_ ," she spat, appalled. I stared at Poppy for as long as I could before a grin slipped onto my lips. "Now, you have some more explaining to do before I even think about letting you walk out of this ward." Instinctively, I shrank back like a turtle, pulled my blanket up and over my face as my cheeks reddened instantaneously. Not even two flights of stairs and an awful hangover could make me forget the events of last night.

"Nothing happened," I blurted, then grimaced at my poor lying skills. I didn't use them often enough to make them anything more than rusty. "Well, I did mack on with Sirius without his permission," I vaguely admitted, "and I did pull him down the stairs – Bloody hell!" I ripped the sheet from my face and swung my head around, searching every inch of the infirmary. "Is he okay?"

Much to my dismay, Poppy gave a chuckle.

"Mr Black is fine. He was up early this morning and well… the way he flew out of those doors – he was probably just afraid you would wake up and jump his bones."

I squeaked in horror, giving Poppy the dirtiest look I could muster. She just giggled merrily as she shoved a vial of potion into my palms. I screwed my nose up at the smelling concoction.

"Couldn't be any worse than the shame I'm feeling," I muttered bitterly as I tipped it back, gulping loudly. I gagged as it slid down my throat, its rancid taste sticking to my saliva – no matter how many tips I persistently swallowed. "Can I leave now?" I pleaded, my lips still half-pursed with disgust.

Poppy rolled her eyes, waving me off. "I suppose… I'll just round up some potions for you," she murmured as she swept away, rubbing her eyes momentarily.

I huffed out a breath, laying back down on the stiff infirmary bed. I could only _imagine_ how horrified Sirius must be by me. I _attacked_ him. _Sexually_. I nearly choked on a ball of saliva. _I was a sexual predator_. I should be locked up – away from those of the opposite sex. I couldn't be trusted around anyone who could be found remotely attractive. A high priority male I would need to ensure I avoid was Sirius Black.

Maybe then I could survive the next eight months of Hogwarts. I would be finishing my sixth year, and consequently, Sirius would be graduating. Once July rolled past, I wouldn't have to ever see Sirius again and I could bury my unforgivable actions in the corridor last night. The only downside to my plan was that there were another eight months until it could begin.

No, surely I could avoid him for the next eight months, I assured myself. I was a sixth year, and he was a seventh year – we would have classes. He was a Gryffindor, I was a Hufflepuff. He was also one of the most popular students in Hogwarts due to his membership in 'the Marauders', whereas I was most definitely not.

"Madam Pomfrey, I have some vials of yours," a voice called softly from the entrance of the infirmary. I looked up, and my eyes shot wide whilst my cheeks blossomed red.

"Remus," I managed, smiling oddly at the Gryffindor. "What, uh, brings you here?" I winced at my appalling social skills.

His brows furrowed as his expression showed a brew of confusion and amusement. "I have some vials for Madam Pomfrey," he finally answered.

I clucked my tongue awkwardly. "Right…"

The school matron swiftly re-entered the infirmary, beaming at us both. "Oh, Remus – thank you, dear," she vaguely pointed to the far wall, where a long bench cluttered with similar vials was located, "just put them over there, my dear." She turned to me, "Now, here are your potions. Take one mouthful of each every morning for the next week." The matron placed my respective three potions on my bedside table. I sighed loudly and flicked the cardboard-like sheets off my body, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I winced, suddenly feeling the aching over my entire body. Every muscle and bone felt swollen and purple from the ordeal the previous night. Poppy fluttered into her office quietly, leaving me to get off the bed.

I moaned as I stretched from side to side, twisting my torso slowly.

"Need a hand, Allie?" Remus spoke.

My eye twitched involuntarily. "No, thanks, Semus."

He made an odd sound as he shuffled closer to my bed. I pointedly didn't look at the ruffled seventh year, instead busying myself with shoving my shoes on.

"Um, it's actually, uh – my name's Remus."

"Well, sometimes we don't all get called what we want," I burst, jumping to my feet, scooping up my potions and stomping past Remus Lupin. My scowl morphed into a blushing grimace. Seriously, I was on a downwards spiral.

I continued stomping through the corridors, scurrying towards the Hufflepuff Common Room in the basement of the castle. As my shoes slapped against the stone, I looked around hastily every few minutes, scanning my surroundings for a certain Sirius Black. As my eyes flickered, the hairs on the back of my neck pricked. I began to notice whispers, stares, giggles, snide remarks – from every person I walked by. My lips pinched as I felt my eyes stubbornly water. The corridor before me blurred momentarily, before I rapidly blinked to clear my vision. My throat ached with humiliation.

Everyone knew.

As if I didn't have a miserable school life as it was. Now this? I could barely hold myself together as I quickened my pace, racing to the haven of my common room. I never really made many friends at Hogwarts. I was on friendly terms with majority of my year, but when it came to invitations to social gatherings, I was never on the list. I usually didn't mind. I just prayed that once I graduated, life would get a little better. I could turn a new leave, I could make friends, get a job. It was all I could hope for.

I sagged in relief as the common room entrance came into sight. I bypassed the tower of barrels, smacking my knuckles against the door to grant access, before I started to clambered in. As I straightened up, I briefly peered around, seeing a small group of fourth years huddled by the fireplace, watching me curiously.

"Elley," one spoke out, smiling timidly, "how are you? Josephine Bud said you fell down the moving staircase two flights."

I squinted at the girl, until I figured out it was Margaret Ginger, a younger Hufflepuff that I tutored for several months last year after she was failing out of two subjects. Her head was tilted with concern as her and her group of friends looked at me.

"Uh, yeah… I'm fine." I gave an awkward smile in attempts to sound honest. "I have potions, so…I'll be fit as a fiddle in no time," I forced a laugh. Margaret smiled slightly.

"That's good." There was an eerie silence, and I tapped on the potion vials with my fingernails to fill it. It didn't work well, so I jerked my head in an odd nod before making my way to my dormitory. My face immediately turned into a sour scowl. Why did I have to be such an awkward creature?

Once I reached my dormitory, I carefully placed the vials on my bedside table, sparing a glance at my crinkled and unmade bed. I flopped face first onto the mattress, moaning into a mouthful of sheets. Somehow, in the journey from the hospital wing to my dormitory – I grew exhausted. As I stared blankly at the bed less than an inch from my face, I came to the churning revelation that I should find Sirius Black and apologise. My whimpers were muffled by the mattress.

Maybe I should just write him a letter, I thought weakly. No, I had to personally walk up the handsome dark-hair Gryffindor, and say I was sorry for attacking him and dragging him down two flights of stairs. As dread continued to fill my entire being, I decided maybe giving a gift as a peace offering would be a good idea. It could distract him for several moments while I muttered an apology and scurried away. But what would I get the guy I'd only ever come into contact with once –when I latched onto him like a leech?

I rolled over, absentmindedly studying the four poster canopy above my bed. The only thing I really knew about Sirius was his luck with the ladies, his loyalty to his three best friends and his odd obsession with Muggles. I didn't really want to go near the subject of 'ladies', especially with recent events still raw in my memory, and I wasn't keen on approaching the other three quarters of the Marauders. That left only Muggles as a target for a gift. I pursed my lips thoughtfully, before I crawled onto the floor, reaching out blindly under my bed. I felt a box, and tugged it gently out from underneath, pushing the lid off as I did so. It took a few minutes of rummaging through full notebooks, but I eventually grasped a dusty book. Grunting slightly, I yanked it out and onto my lap.

It was my Muggle Studies book from last school year, which I had unintentionally packed in my trunk.

As I flipped through it, my face turned upwards into a scowl again. There was nothing in its pages that gave me any sort of idea for a 'Muggle' gift. I huffed impatiently, shoving the book back into the box and nudging the box into its previous position. Chewing on my bottom lip, my eyes suddenly widened in delight.

"Of course," I muttered to myself, unsteadily jumping to my feet. I blew out my cheeks as I left the safety of my dormitory before racing through the common room. It was quite a hike to the Muggle Studies classroom from here, so my pace soon dissolved into a walk. If Professor Oz was about, he could help me figure out a gift for Sirius Black that sincerely says, ' _I am genuinely sorry for sexually assaulting you_ '.

It took ten minutes to finally reach the Muggle Studies classroom, a time quicker than the usual twelve minutes. My habit of rushing past whispering and giggling classmates was probably the reason I just bet my personal best. I rapped my knuckles against the wooden door, catching my breath after the considerable trek. My legs and back throbbed as bruises from my fall resurfaced. I would definitely be taking more than one swig of my potions every day.

The door swung open, creaking angrily at the movement. A white-haired man beamed down at me, spreading his arms in welcome.

"Miss Elley, what brings you to this side of the castle?" He asked delightfully. I smiled in spite of myself at the exuberant man, and followed his nonverbal instructions to enter the classroom.

"You're looking fantastic, Professor," I commented. "Is that a new shirt?"

He chuckled merrily, waving me off. "Oh, Miss Elley," he admonished with a wide smile. "What can I do for you, young lady?"

I scratched my arm sheepishly. "Well, I need some help," I stated. The Professor nodded, intrigued, and took a seat at one of the desks whilst still watching me. "I want to give a gift to a, erm, friend of mine. He's pretty obsessed with Muggles and all their inventions, so I was hoping to give him a Muggle gift. The only problem is-"

"You have absolutely no idea what Muggles have invented," he finished brightly. I blushed, but nodded. He cocked his head to the side, and his lips turned upwards. "You know, this sounds like one of my most avid students," he observed. "He is very interested in Muggle inventions, particularly their methods of transport. Recently, he has mentioned that he wants to gather Muggle collectables, mainly their toy vehicles." He paused, "If this certain student is alike your friend, I believe helping him start his collection would be a wonderful idea."

I blushed as my stomach curdled. "You, um… you heard about Sirius Black," I stated with embarrassment.

He chuckled, resting his palm on his round belly. "Yes, news travels fast in this castle." Great. Just great. "You know, my dear, if you love young Mr Sirius-"

"Oh, no!" I interrupted wildly, "I do not love Sirius Black. I was, uh, very drunk."

Professor Oz just smiled at me, as if he didn't hear my words at all. "Well as they say; a drunk mind acts on what a sober mind cannot." I didn't really know who actually uses that saying, but I just nodded weakly.

"So how can I find these collectables?"

The beer-bellied professor rose from his chair, and waddled into the conjoined office, mumbling incoherently to himself.

My shoulders sagged as I puffed out a long breath. Hopefully this gift would eradicate _some_ awkwardness and put this entire saga in the past. Hopefully… but not likely.

I drummed my fingers on the table as I waited for Professor Oz. I missed sitting in his classroom, hanging onto his every world as he described the Muggle world as some fantasy world. I wasn't the only Pureblood who was mesmerized by his words – although not all would freely admit it. I wish I'd continued in Muggle Studies, but at the time of subject selections, it didn't feel as important as other subjects. I was so intent on focusing on my Ancient Runes class that all the others seemed mundane. I did end up grudgingly selecting several more to reach the mandatory number of classes. I realised as the school year started that my survival depended on the classes I chose.

A few years ago, rumours of a Dark wizard who dubbed himself Lord Voldemort began to surface. He was said to be roaming the global recruiting fellow Dark wizards and creatures to follow him in his rise to power. He soon referred to his mass of followers as Death Eaters. Not a real charming name, I had immediately commented. Lord Voldemort tore apart happy families, murdered hundreds of Muggles and Muggleborns, and threatened death to Pureblood families who did not volunteer to support his cause. Many families agreed with his hatred of Muggles, and sided with him. Others were not so compliant, and their families became the victims of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. My family wasn't an obvious target of Lord Voldemort – my mother had already died before he became known, my father has a whisky bottle to his lips more often than not, and my one and only brother had no intentions of staying with the crumbs that remained of our family, and went to Australia to study the Merpeople, amongst other Magical creatures, that resided in their waters.

"Miss Elley?" My head snapped up, and I blinked in disorientation at Professor Oz. With a sheepish smile, I stood up.

"Did you find something?" I questioned hopefully.

"Not exactly," he eventually answered. My shoulders slumped in disappointment. Great – now I was back to square one. "But I did find this cataologue," he quickly added, "It's probably not what you were hoping for, but I get one every month from a Muggle artefact collector, and I thought it would be helpful." I nodded slowly, my interest perking. He shuffled closer to show me the catalogue. "These here," he pointed out to a section dedicated toy motorcycles, "would be perfect for Mr Sirius. He is quite a fan of motorcycles. If you just tear out this order form and write which ones you want, put it in an envelope with some gold, and send it with your owl – it should arrive within a few days," he guaranteed. I smiled, and couldn't help myself as I wrapped my arms around Professor Oz.

"Thank you, Professor!"

He gave a merry chuckle, "Now, now, dear," he berated, "I would hate for this affection to end in my falling down three flights of stairs with you."

I pulled back immediately, scowling sourly at the man, who just laughed at me. "Professor!"

I snatched the catalogue from his chunky fingers haughtily. "For the record, it was only two flights of stairs!" I stomped out of the classroom, shutting the door on his continuous chuckles. "Old swine," I sulked to myself as I directed myself back towards my common room.

The castle had grown reasonably quieter. Most of the student body would either have disappeared into the Great Hall for lunch, or headed to Hogsmeade for the day. I almost collapsed in relief. It meant my chances of bypassing whispering classmates dwindled considerably.

I hummed quietly as I patted down the stairs that I'd ever so gracefully fallen down hours ago. I cringed to myself. What a horrible night.

I flicked open the catalogue curiously as I continued the journey back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. There were dozens of items crowding each page, from toys to electrical objects. I could see why Sirius Black was enthralled by the ways of Muggle transport. Even the toy versions of the motor vehicles and motorcycles seemed more magical than Flooing or a magic carpet. The miniature motorcycles ranged in different colours and design, all equally fascinating. All I had to do was purchase one, avoid Sirius while I waited for it to arrive in the Owl Post, deliver it to Srius, and then resume avoiding said Sirius.

Turning around a corner, I screamed. I stepped back so hastily I tripped over my feet and went sprawling across the cold and hard stone floor. Groaning in pain, I brushed off my palms and patted the surrounding floor for the catalogue that slipped from my grasp.

"Probably my turn to make you fall, aye," a sly comment was made from overhead. I looked up to see the very handsome Sirius Black, looking at me with amusement. Snickers came from most of his clan that flanked him and his best mate, James Potter.

I blushed crimson. I attempted to stutter an apology, but nothing coherent left my lips. His friends sniggered again. I blew out a breath as I climbed to my feet, trying my best not to look him in the eye.

"A Muggle collector catalogue?"

My eyes widened in panic as I turned to him. Despite himself, he had already begun flicking through the pages. "Uh, it's for me – it's mine," I corrected myself, grimacing. I hastily yanked it from his hands and scurried away. A wall of testosterone-drive Gryffindors stood in my way. I swallowed hard, before stepping on one's toes, making him cry out in surprise. I shoved him aside and hurried past, my eyes watering without my permission.

 _Only eight months_ , I told myself.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _One hundred and fifty galleons_.

I nearly cried as I stirred my bowl of porridge. Even the sound of a thousand rowdy students didn't mute my regretful thoughts.

After my run-in with Sirius Black, I'd rushed to my dormitory and immediately filled in the order form. I only realised after I filled all my information and the total cost scratched itself onto the parchment that I'd just become one hundred and fifty galleons poorer. The Selwyn bank vault was constantly being milked for my father's drinking habits, and since I wasn't exactly in cahoots with him anymore, I wasn't prepared to ask him to send me gold. So I pulled up my pouch of allowance gold that I had been given every year. Due to my knack of never making friends, I rarely felt the need to visit Hogsmeade, and most of my allowance gold had remained in my pouch, accumulating since first year. There would certainly be enough for Sirius's gift, but it would make a large dent.

Who knew collectables were so expensive… Professor Oz certainly didn't mention that it was a pricey gift for a sixth year student. To be fair, it wasn't _really_ my gold, and the Professor was adamant that it was the perfect gift for Sirius Black. Maybe so perfect that we could forget about the incident and leave it in the past. My own persuasive arguments led to me opening up my allowance pouch and scooping out a handful of gold.

"If this doesn't say ' _I am genuinely sorry for sexually assaulting you', I don't know what does,"_ I had muttered to myself, before sealing the envelope.

Now I sat in the Great Hall, at one end of the Hufflepuff table, a noticeable distant from the rest of my House. I sighed into my bowl. It was Monday, three days after the drunken incident with Sirius Black, and the rumours had grown tumours that varied greatly from the truth. I didn't bother to correct their interpretation of the events that had occurred. It would only draw out the talk for longer.

But the first match of the Interhouse Quidditch Cup was looming near, and a lot of people, particularly of the male variety, had dropped the subject of me to enthusiastically talk about the upcoming sporting event.

A cloud of owls suddenly flew into the Great Hall, swooping and swerving around each other to their respective student. I kept my head bowed over my bowl, feigning interest in eating breakfast as conversation buzzed over the arrival of the Owl Post. I sighed lightly, grudgingly spooning a mouthful of the porridge. The last time I had received mail was in second year. My mother had sent me a long gruelling letter consisting only of questions about how Hogwarts was going and what friends I'd made. That was two days before the Headmaster interrupted Herbology and escorted me to his office, where my father and brother were already waiting. My brother and I were then informed our mother had died.

A papered parcel fell in front of my bowl. I jumped in surprise, flicking my eyes above to the owl that stared down at me for several seconds before swooping around and disappearing into the mass flock. I looked back to the parcel, and grabbed it. As I stared at it longer, I eventually realised it must be Sirius Black's gift. I stood up and climbed over the back of the bench, making my way out of the hall.

Bypassing the Gryffindor table, I ducked my head and quickened my pace. If I slipped by, they wouldn't notice. But the closer I got, I recognised the voices at the end of the table, and who they belonged to. It was the Marauders and their assembly of avid followers.

My fingers tightened on the package in my hands as I slipped by the table.

Without warning, I lost my balance. My foot got caught and the parcel flew from my grip as my arms thrusted outward. I went crashing to the ground, tingling pain winding up my arms from my palms. My eyes began to water profusely.

But it wasn't because of my tripping. It was because of the chilling laughter that it brought on. I pinned my lips firm, demanding them to not tremble. Pushing myself to my knees, I noticed out the corner of my eye a leg slinking back under the Gryffindor table. I looked up at the culprit with a hardened jaw, gathering the parcel as I stood up.

"You just-" I spluttered, my words coming out much less intelligent than I would have liked. My face burned red as I quickly turned just as a small tear jumped from my lashes, my gaze catching momentarily with Sirius Black's. I escaped the Great Hall as fast as I could.

When I was out of side, my pace increased as I headed back to my common room before Ancient Runes started.

"Ellea Selwyn?"

Immediately, I stopped in my tracks. The last time someone in the school talked to me was to tell me to move off of their regular seat.

I turned around slowly, my whole face tense with confusion.

It was Sirius Black. My face fell.

"What do you want?" I asked frostily. I winced at how rude I sounded. "Sorry," I added. I winced again, wanting to slap myself. At the way he'd been humiliating me since the staircase incident, I shouldn't be taking precautions in being nice and polite.

He let a tiny, puzzling smile cross his lips briefly, before opening his mouth. "I just wanted to apologise for your, um, trip," he said.

I stared at him.

"I had my foot out," he confessed, "But I didn't mean to trip you."

I continued staring at him. He really was very handsome, despite his horrid personality.

He gave a forced laugh. "No harm, no foul, right?" He began studying the ground.

"No harm? _No harm_? My hands are bleeding, I'm pretty sure my wrist is sprained, and my dignity is a far cry from being intact," I burst. "I'm sorry I assaulted you Friday night, and I'm sorry you got a few bumps, but you don't have to humiliate me every chance you get. Just leave me _alone_."

He opened his mouth, and then closed it wordlessly.

I turned and hurried to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Stupid, stupid, _beautiful_ Sirius Black," I cursed to myself as I rushed down the corridor. As I retreated from Sirius Black, I heard his distinctive chuckle, and my ears burned hot. He _heard_ me. Could my luck possibly get any worse?

Six minutes later, I realised it could.

I was late for Potions. Professor Slughorn wasn't particularly thrilled about my existence due to me forgetting about his annual Christmas Party, to which I was invited and never arrived at. That was three years ago, and since then, he looked at me bemused for the duration of most of my Potion lessons as if I had handed him over to Grindewald. I raced through the corridors, clutching my books to my torso. There were scattered seventh years who had free periods, and their eyes followed me curiously as I ran past. Despite my best efforts to get back into Slughorn's good graces, he still looked at me with a certain betrayal. And I doubted being substantially late to class would go unpunished.

Nearing the Potions room, I slowed down. I could hear the muffled voices beyond the door of Slughorn directing the class in concocting the Draught of Living Death. I blew out my cheeks nerviously, my chest still heaving from the fast-paced race I'd just completed. Shakily, I pushed open the Potions lab door.

Every single head in the room swung around to stare at me. The colour in my cheeks from my frantic race increased tenfold. The Slytherin side of the room sneered nastily at the sight of me, flicking their attention back to their potions with disinterest. My fellow Hufflepuffs also turned back to their potions, albeit more politely.

"Miss Selwyn," Professor Slughorn greeted abruptly. "Set up your cauldron and start brewing."

I swallowed ad nodded hastily, following his instructions. My peers glanced at me momentarily as I moved towards the front of the room where the last table sat. While I clumsily prepared my ingredients, Professor Slughorn shuffled towards me precariously.

"I'll be seeing you at six o'clock for detention, Miss Selwyn?" He murmured.

I grimaced, nodding. "Yes, Professor." He stayed by my side, watching me chop ingredients awkwardly.

"You and Black will be scrubbing the floors," He informed me gruffly.

My sweaty fingers slipped on the knife. The Sopophorous bean remained unscathed, but the same couldn't be said for my finger.

I stared at the chopping board, my face drained of colour.

" _Balls_ ," I cursed.

Stupid, stupid Sirius bloody Black.


End file.
